The Bank Of Mallory Archer
by Red Witch
Summary: Mallory is getting more than a little fed up with her son's expenses.


**The disclaimer telling you that I don't own any Archer characters is in a bank somewhere. More madness from my tiny little mind while waiting for Season 8.**

 **The Bank Of Mallory Archer **

"God I **love** days like this," Cyril grinned as he and the other members of the Figgis Agency headed towards Mallory's office.

"Me too," Ray agreed.

"YOU SPENT **HOW MUCH** ON THAT DAMN CAR?" Mallory was heard screaming.

"Come on! We're gonna miss it!" Cheryl said.

"I want to get a good seat!" Krieger grinned.

The Figgis Agency filed into the office where Archer was being yelled at by his mother. "Great Mother!" Archer grumbled as he took a drink from his chair. "You blew the Idiot Whistle again. I told you that would attract them."

"I wish you could attract some _common sense_ ," Mallory snapped from behind her desk. "Or failing that, some actual **cents**. And dollar bills."

"What did he do **this time**?" Lana asked with a sigh.

"Would you like to tell them Sterling Hood?" Mallory asked sarcastically. "Tell them how you stole my credit card again!"

"I think you just did," Archer said.

"Not only did this idiot steal my card and use it to pay for more repairs for that ridiculous excuse of metal he calls a car…" Mallory snarled. "He bought several suits, two pairs of shoes, a bowling ball for some reason…"

"I'm thinking of joining league night," Archer said. "Whenever that is."

"You don't even like bowling!" Mallory shouted.

"But I like **drinking!** " Archer said. "So…if I do decide to join a league I'll be ready. Better to have and not need, right?"

"Apparently, you think that also applies to brain cells," Mallory snapped. "You also drained five thousand dollars from my credit account!"

"Well I had to convert it to cash," Archer snapped. "In order to play this game…"

"You took five thousand dollars of my money to play some kind of slots?" Mallory snapped.

"No, this guy was on the street and had three cups with a ball hiding under one of them," Archer said. "I honestly thought I'd be better at it than that."

"How did you even get into my account in the first place?" Mallory shouted.

"A bit of advice Mother," Archer suggested. "You might want to consider changing your password from Duchess. Just saying."

"How about My Son Is An Ungrateful Leech 96?" Mallory snapped.

"What's the 96 from?" Archer asked.

"That's how many years it will take for you to pay off this debt the way you've been racking up the bills!" Mallory shouted.

"And that's not counting interest," Cyril added.

"Thank you, Cyril," Mallory said. "I forgot about the interest."

"Well I have **no interest** in this conversation," Archer waved.

"But we do!" Pam said cheerfully.

"I admit this is quite a fascinating discussion," Cyril grinned.

"Very enlightening," Ray nodded.

"Indubitably," Krieger nodded.

"Do we really need to have the Idiot Gallery here for **this?** " Archer groaned.

"Why not?" Cheryl asked. "It's not like we can't hear it throughout the whole building."

"This is just another expense on your account as far as you're concerned, isn't it?" Mallory snapped. "Just another thing to charge to the Bank of Mallory Archer!"

"You have a **bank**?" Cheryl asked. "Just kidding. I know you don't have any money."

"You **know things?** " Mallory mocked. "Just kidding. I know you don't have any brain cells."

"Speaking of no brain cells," Archer said. "Again, we don't need to involve…"

"Oh, **shut up** Sterling!" Mallory interrupted. "For years you've embarrassed me and now it's your turn."

"I think my turn came and went that day in that men's bathroom at Le Cirque," Archer snapped. "You know? It's hard enough to drop a deuce without your mother going at it with some guy in the next stall!"

"God I love these fights," Cyril whispered to Ray.

"God I'm going to love **your funeral**!" Archer snapped at Cyril, who clearly heard him.

"Keep it up Sterling," Mallory snarled. "You may not live long enough to see that."

"You know the gypsy woman did say there was like a fifty-fifty shot…" Cheryl began.

"You have been nothing but an expensive yoke around my neck since the day you were born!" Mallory snapped at her son. "I knew I should have dumped you at that orphanage in Tangiers but nooooo! I had to be a sap and keep you! A decision I regret to this day!"

"Here we go…" Archer groaned.

"You have been leeching at my teats sucking the proverbial life out of me since you were born!" Mallory shouted.

"And it shows," Cheryl added cheerfully.

"Do you have any idea how much I had to pay for your schooling **alone?** " Mallory snapped.

"No, how much?" Pam asked. Everyone looked at her. "I'm genuinely interested."

"Well I'm not sure of the _exact number_ ," Mallory grumbled. "But I'm pretty sure it surpasses the national debt of Belize!"

"It wasn't that much," Archer scoffed.

"And that's not even counting what I paid for your stupid lacrosse obsession," Mallory grumbled. "Lessons, cleats, uniforms, equipment, camps, bribes to the parents and coaches to keep you on the team."

"Lacrosse is a rough sport," Archer snapped. "Don't hate the player, hate the game."

"You can hate the player when they routinely break limbs!" Mallory shouted.

"So sometimes a bone gets broken?" Archer shrugged. "It happens."

"Not to the **referees!** " Mallory shouted. "Or people in the stands!"

"Those football jocks had it coming!" Archer snapped.

"Well because of **you** they couldn't go to the semi-finals with all the injures you bestowed on them!" Mallory snapped.

"Football is overrated anyway," Archer defended. "Lacrosse has way more skill."

"Do you have any idea how much I had to pay in bribe money to keep you in St. Joshua's Prep and not get you **expelled**?" Mallory snapped. "Let alone keep you on the team! Which you were almost thrown off of!"

"I won the game," Archer waved. "There was no danger of me getting kicked off. Coach Mumford liked me."

"Until you seduced his wife!" Mallory shouted.

"She came onto **me!** " Archer snapped. "No surprise because you said he was lousy in bed anyway."

"I only had sex with him to teach you a lesson!" Mallory shouted. "Or was it to teach _her_ a lesson? Well **somebody** was supposed to learn a lesson!"

"I'm guessing that somebody wasn't Archer," Cyril quipped.

"Ding, ding, ding!" Mallory quipped. "Cyril gets the extra point for the win!"

"I did learn something," Archer challenged. "I learned that Coach Mumford had some serious mental issues."

"What happened?" Lana sighed.

"When Coach Mumford's wife caught him with my mother she ran off with the music teacher," Archer said. "That very night."

"I don't believe it," Lana was stunned.

"Neither did anyone else," Archer admitted. "I could have sworn Mr. Fielder was gay. But nope. Ended up marrying her and two other ex-wives after her. He had six kids between the three of them. Which is pretty impressive for a guy who really loved the flute."

"So what happened with Coach Mumford?" Pam asked.

"He chased me around the school with a fire ax," Archer said. "Don't worry. I wasn't in any real danger. Coach Mumford was at least a hundred and fifty pounds overweight and I was several lengths ahead of him the whole time. Too bad several desks couldn't outrun him."

"This does not end, well doesn't it?" Cyril asked.

"Not for him no," Archer shrugged. "Or the history teacher Mr. Cossack. He tried to restrain Coach Mumford and the coach bit his ear off."

"Ooh…" Ray winced.

"Yeah it was not pretty," Archer shrugged. "Long story short after he was arrested Coach Mumford was fired and dragged to a mental hospital. I wonder what happened to him after that?"

"Ironically that was one of the **least** expensive messes I had to bail you out of," Mallory growled. "Because your propensity for causing disasters simply grew even though you refused to **grow up**!"

"Oh please!" Archer waved. "Name **one disaster**!"

"Your spring break trip to Thailand," Mallory glared at him.

"Name another," Archer said.

"How about the Rarities fiasco?" Mallory snapped. "How about **that one?"**

"Oh Mother are you still on **that?"** Archer groaned. "You've been nursing that grudge longer than you nursed me!"

"Rarities is one of the most exclusive clubs slash bars in New York!" Mallory snapped. "For fifteen years I went to that club! And it took you little more than **fifteen minutes** to get us both banned for life!"

"Okay I admit I got a tiny bit tipsy," Archer said.

"A **tiny** bit?" Mallory snapped. "You drank an entire bottle of cognac that was around since Louis the Sixteenth in _sixteen seconds_! Then you proceeded to throw it up all over the floor!"

"Well it was a little oaky anyway," Archer admitted.

"Do you have any idea…?" Mallory began.

"Do **you** have **any idea** that every time you say _'Do you have any idea'_ I have **no idea**?" Archer asked.

"You have **no ideas** period!" Mallory snapped. "For almost a year I had to kiss a lot of asses just to get you an induction interview for membership!"

"Literally or figuratively?" Pam asked.

"Both," Mallory grumbled. "And what happened when I **finally** get you an interview? How am I repaid for my hard work and generosity? You show up half plastered with two prostitutes. Make fun of the vice president's tie. Drink three very expensive bottles of very rare and expensive liquor. Your whores drink and spill another bottle of expensive liquor on the rug…"

"That I have explained," Archer interrupted. "Jewel's best friend and her first pimp were both killed in a drunk driving accident. She was merely pouring some of the alcohol on the floor as a tribute. It's a cultural thing."

"It was a ten-thousand-dollar expense thing!" Mallory snapped. "And that was just for the damn rug's dry cleaning."

"Again, a little tipsy," Archer said. "Mea culpa."

"You mea'd your culpa all over the damn rug!" Mallory snapped. "And behind the bar!"

"Jewel gets horny when she morns!" Archer snapped. "She was grief banging! I was offering moral support! As well as getting my money's worth."

"Then you get into a fight with security," Mallory snapped. "Breaking several more bottles of expensive alcohol, two chairs and a table that Fatty Arbuckle once sat at!"

"Good thing he didn't sit **on** it," Archer quipped.

"I was _humiliated_ ," Mallory bristled. "My membership card was ripped up then and there. I lost at least three good contacts and four halfway decent suitors that day! A lot of those men still won't look me in the eye!"

"I'm pretty sure **that part** had nothing to do with me," Archer rolled his eyes.

"Those bottles you smashed over that one guard's head were more mature than you!" Mallory snapped. "I thought you learned your lesson that day but **surprise**! You didn't!"

"And now we're on those snooty men's clubs you tried to get me involved in" Archer groaned.

"I sent you to those clubs so that you would be exposed to the best New York had to offer," Mallory snapped. "But instead you chose to hang around with the **worst** New York had to offer! Present company included!"

"Mother those places were boring," Archer said. "Well until I got there."

Mallory rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm sure they have a special inter club night where they compare stories about what whores you brought defecated where."

"Technically only one woman pissed the floor of one club," Archer said. "And she technically wasn't a whore. Just a girl who liked having a good time that drank a little too much and her bladder couldn't hold it."

"It's just one expense after another with you, isn't it?" Mallory snapped. "Damn it Sterling! The only reason I hired you to work for me is to pay me back for all the money you owed me! But you just keep screwing up and screwing around costing me even **more money**!"

"Like that employee booze cruise you set up," Cheryl spoke up. "You know the one where we were supposed to sail around the Statue of Liberty?"

Mallory's eye twitched. "I'd **forgotten** about the Statue of Libations Cruise!"

"It wasn't **that** bad," Archer gulped nervously.

"Oh really?" Mallory snarled. "It's all coming back to me now…"

FLASHBACK!

The Statue of Liberty harbor. Where a boat had crashed into the docks and was sinking.

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO DRIVE THE BOAT ARCHER!" Lana shouted.

"YOU **PILOT** THE BOAT LANA!" Archer shouted back. "Admittedly I didn't do that well either…"

SPLASH!

"HELP! HELP!"

"Agent Tromwell overboard!" Someone shouted.

"HELP! I CAN'T SWIM!" Agent Tromwell screamed.

"Well what kind of dumb ass secret agent can't swim?" Pam called out as she drank a beer.

"Seriously," Krieger agreed. "Hey were we supposed to wear life jackets?"

"HELP ME!"

"How am I supposed to know?" Pam grumbled.

"HELP!"

"Well Agent Tromwell should have worn his," Archer remarked.

POP! POP! ZOOOM!

"WHO'S THE IDIOT THAT BROUGHT FIREWORKS ON A BOOZE CRUISE?" Cyril screamed as fireworks exploded from the back of the ship.

"That would be me," Krieger admitted. "But it was Archer's idea!"

"But I'm not the one who lit them!" Archer shouted. "I was too busy piloting the boat!"

"You mean you were too busy **crashing** the damn boat!" Ray shouted.

"Nobody likes a backseat driver Ray!" Archer snapped.

"You mean a backseat **pilot**?" Ray said sarcastically.

"Oh right," Archer blinked. "Sorry Ray. I apologize for my grammar."

"Oh yeah! **That's** what you should be apologizing for!" Lana shouted.

POP! ZOOOM! WHIISZZZZZ!

"AAAAAHHHHH!"

"Agent Gabel is on fire," Cyril sighed.

"Who lit those damn fireworks?" Ray shouted.

"HA HA HA HA!" Cheryl squealed.

"Stupid question," Ray sighed.

"Yes it was," Pam agreed.

BANG! POP! WHIZZ!

"BEST CRUISE **EVER!** " Cheryl screamed.

"I'M STILL DROWNING HERE!" Agent Tromwell screamed.

"Seriously dude you can't even do a doggy paddle?" Cyril shouted.

"He's got a point," Archer admitted.

"So do you!" Lana shouted. "IN YOUR HEAD!"

WHIZZZZ! BANG! BOOM!

"Oh God!" Lana shouted. "One of the fireworks hit the Statue of Liberty."

"Don't worry," Archer waved. "It only slightly scorched the side of it."

BOOM!

"Mallory!" Lana shouted at Mallory.

"What?" Mallory grumbled. She was drinking from a huge bottle of vodka.

"The ship is sinking and on fire!" Lana said. "We just attacked the Statute of Liberty! Agent Gabel is on fire…"

"AAAAAHH!"

"And setting parts of the ship on fire…" Lana said. "And I think Agent Tromwell just drowned."

CRRREEAAAKKK!

"AND WE'RE **SINKING!** " Lana shouted.

"I know. Thank god I'm bombed out of my mind or else I'd be **really worried** ," Mallory groaned as she took a drink.

FLASHFORWARD!

"And that's how we all got banned for life from the Statue of Liberty," Lana sighed. "As well as pretty much every booze cruise in New York's harbor."

"It's also how the policy of all employees knowing how to swim became mandatory," Pam added.

"Really not that big a shock that we lost so many employees now that I think about it," Ray remarked.

"I ended up paying for that screw up you made for over **a year!"** Mallory shouted. "I even lost my preferred membership pass to the Statue of Liberty because of you!"

"You had a _membership pass_?" Lana asked. "For the Statue of Liberty?"

"I got it at a charity auction a while ago," Mallory shrugged. "It was for cancer or MS or something. Who remembers? The point is that I had it and I lost it because of my _precious son's_ incompetence!"

" **Precious son?"** Archer exploded. "More like an unpaid indentured servant!"

"Uh Archer," Cyril spoke up. "Indentured servants are usually unpaid. Kind of redundant."

"So are you and…Name any useless thing!" Archer barked.

Archer turned back to his mother. "You have treated me like your help since before I can remember! Trying to brainwash me to be your little puppet!"

"Keep it up Pinocchio!" Mallory snarled. "I'll cut more than your strings! You owe me Sterling! You owe me big time!"

"Oh really?" Archer snapped. "Let's check those numbers again! How many people did I have to **literally** kill for you over the years? Spoiler alert! It's in the triple digits!"

"That's work!" Mallory snapped. "Doesn't count!"

"And how many bodies did I have to help you dispose of over the years?" Archer snapped. "That's also a pretty high number! Like the Italian Prime Minister, that douchebag from the UN, that assassin in Portugal…"

"Too bad it wasn't Valarie," Mallory grumbled.

Archer went on. "That **other** assassin and that mob boss' son I had to bury in a suitcase for you last weekend."

"Wait **what**?" Lana did a double take.

"Don't worry about it," Mallory waved.

"When you say things like that," Cyril said. "It usually is cause for us to **worry about it**."

"I have worked my whole life for you and you are never happy!" Archer barked. "I consider whatever little money I get compensation!"

" **Little** money?" Cyril said. "Oh my God…"

"Again, can we go back to the mob boss and assassin you buried?" Lana asked.

"I compensated for your _work_ …" Mallory snapped. "If you can call it that. Plenty of times!"

"Sometimes even more than your other agents who actually **did** the work," Lana said bitterly. "Instead of screwing around all day."

"I'm guessing that's more because of some tax rebate fund or something like that," Cyril asked.

"Close enough," Mallory shrugged.

"I can imagine what you mean," Cyril groaned. "And I'm guessing Archer you didn't put your entire earnings on your tax forms, did you?"

"What tax forms?" Archer blinked.

"The tax forms you send in for the government," Cyril said. "You know those pieces of paper you have to send in by every April telling how much you made?"

"Wait I'm supposed to **do that**?" Archer asked. "I thought my mother took care of that."

"What?" Everyone else shouted.

"Mother never paid taxes," Archer said. "So I just assumed…"

"Wait you thought I would cover **your** tracks with the Internal Revenue Service like I did?" Mallory asked.

"You **didn't?"** Archer asked.

"I assumed you would find a nice homely IRS agent to sleep with like I did," Mallory shrugged. "Uh oh…I haven't done that in a while."

"Define **a while**?" Cyril groaned.

"Well not since…" Mallory counted off. "Five…Six…Maybe seven years?"

"So you two can look forward to a nice relaxing audit in the near future?" Cyril said sarcastically. "Hah ha."

Ray gave Cyril a look. "Did **you** put down all the money **you made** these past few years? Or did you leave a few hundred thousand out?"

"Like all the money we **stole** over the years?" Pam asked.

"That would have been pretty difficult to itemize…" Cyril blinked. "Uh oh…"

"Uh oh is right!" Ray realized. "We could get audited too!"

Lana gasped. "You're right! Damn it!"

"That's a big uh oh isn't it?" Ray asked.

"It is…" Lana winced. "Uh oh…"

"A huge steaming pile of **uh oh,"** Pam groaned. "Uh oh. I may be in trouble too."

"Good thing I have people for that," Cheryl giggled. Then she frowned. "I **think** I have people for that. I mean the last time I…Uh oh. I think I may need to make a call later."

"Ha! Not me!" Krieger grinned. "Technically I'm not even in this country legally so…Uh oh."

"We're all in deep shit aren't we?" Pam groaned.

"Very deep," Mallory groaned. "Unless…Krieger. Didn't you tell me you had some kind of hacking program that could get into any computer?"

"Or was that another one of your scams?" Cyril asked icily.

Mitsuko then floated in. "Do I look like a scam to you?" She asked.

"Wait, your hacking program is **Mitsuko?** " Lana did a double take.

"Why do you think I can't kill her no matter how hard I try?" Krieger groaned.

"Fine," Mallory sighed. "Cyril, Krieger. Take Princess Lightwave over here and hack into the IRS files to cover all our tracks."

"Once again hacking into another government computer," Cyril moaned.

"Fine! In compensation, you can cut Sterling's salary," Mallory conceded. "Happy?"

"Yes!" Cyril said cheerfully.

"NO!" Archer shouted at the same time.

"Shut up Sterling!" Mallory snapped. "You're just lucky I'm covering your ass again!"

"And yours," Archer added.

"Shut up!" Mallory snapped. "You three go hack into the IRS! What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation? Go! While I make some calls to what few contacts I have…The rest of you…Just do something."

"I'm going to the bar," Archer got up.

"Nooope!" Mallory snapped. "You are staying **right here**!"

"Doing what?" Archer snapped.

"Anything that doesn't cost me or this agency money!" Mallory snapped.

"Well that's a short list," Archer remarked.

"Maybe you should go through your receipts just to be on the safe side?" Lana suggested. "In case there is an audit."

"I was supposed to **save receipts**?" Archer blinked.

"Well that's a time saver," Cyril grumbled.

"Are you still here?" Mallory glared at them.

"Yes," Krieger said.

"GO!" Mallory ordered. With a scream, Krieger and Cyril ran out. Mitsuko shrugged and floated out casually.

"Pretty ironic," Cheryl remarked. "Krieger who is basically your kidnapped semi-adopted son is doing more work than your **actual one**."

"Not helping Carol!" Archer glared at her.

"But she does have a point," Mallory glared at Sterling. "And if this dimwitted ditz can see it…"

"See what? Where?" Cheryl looked around.

Mallory made an angry growl and then took a deep breath. "Fine. Sterling there is something you can do. We're running low on toilet paper. So, I need you to get some."

"Do we have enough in the budget?" Lana asked.

"We will if you steal it from somewhere," Mallory said.

"You want me to steal **toilet paper?"** Archer shouted. "That's a new low even for you!"

"We wouldn't have to if you didn't keep stealing money from my budget!" Mallory shouted. "Carol, what's that hotel that Tiffy owns in LA? The one your brother gave her."

"The Tunalagio," Cheryl answered. "Ooh! Can we play a game of 'Let's Screw Tiffy'?"

"I'm assuming you don't mean literally…" Archer asked.

"Depends on what she's into," Pam said.

"Don't get your hopes up," Cheryl groaned. "For a hippie dippy freakazoid she's pretty much a prude. Won't even let my brother go to a sex dungeon."

"I have no response to that," Mallory sighed. "Other than to tell you to steal toilet paper and pretty much anything you can get from her hotel. Without her finding out it's you of course."

"YAY!" Cheryl cheered. "It is a game of Let's Screw Tiffy!"

"And no fires!" Mallory shouted. "I repeat! **No fires!"**

"I get it," Cheryl shrugged.

"Read my lips," Mallory said again. "No fires. Absolutely none."

"I get it **duh!"** Cheryl rolled her eyes. "Of course, I can't set any fires! Then she'd know it was me and we'd lose the game! Ugh! It's not like I don't know how to play it!"

"Sterling," Mallory sighed. "Take Lana, Pam, The Human Scorch and Speed Queen with you."

"Again Mother," Archer folded his arms. "This is literally one of the shittiest jobs you ever sent me on."

"Well let's just say this assignment reflects the **quality** of your work!" Mallory shouted. "Now go!"

"Way to go Archer," Lana grumbled as they left.

"How is this my fault?" Archer shouted.

"How is it **not?** " Lana barked back.

Ray grumbled as they left. "We must be the only detective agency in the world that **causes** more crimes than solves them!"

"Yeah probably," Cheryl shrugged.


End file.
